


Night Like Pepper

by withthepilot



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dreams, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-30
Updated: 2010-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:38:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthepilot/pseuds/withthepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A freak boating accident takes Hikaru to an imaginary world out in space, where he serves as pilot for the U.S.S. Enterprise. When the dreams don't stop, Pavel wonders if his partner will ever truly return to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Like Pepper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starsandgraces](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandgraces/gifts).



> AU songfic based on KT Tunstall's "Night Like Pepper."

_Don't come near me  
I'm not the one to save your skin_

 

It was as swift as the sea, Hikaru's fall from the sailboat. Pavel looks up at the ceiling of the hospital waiting room and does as he's told—just waits and waits some more, replaying the way the deck seemed to actually slide out from under their feet. The way Hikaru had reached for him as he stumbled and they only managed to touch each other's wrists before he was in the unforgiving water, stormy and gray as Pavel's own eyes as it swallowed him whole. They weren't even far from the shore. They were nearly home.

Pavel rubs his temples until he thinks he might wear away the skin completely. When they finally call him into Hikaru's room, he's surprised to hear the steady beat of his pulse monitored by the machines, a slow series of beeps that he fears might stop at any given moment. They pumped the water out of him, he hears. He'd hit his head on the railing, they think. They were close to losing him for good, they say.

He looks to the window and half-expects the ocean to come roaring in, shattering the glass and turning this small room into a makeshift graveyard. The sun is shining, bright as Hikaru's biggest smile, and it stripes across Pavel's lap when he sits beside the bed. He hasn't seen that smile in hours and he's terrified he's already forgotten it.

When Hikaru opens his eyes a few hours later, Pavel's knuckle bears an indentation from the worrying bite of his front teeth. He sits up quickly, taking his lover's hand.

"Hikaru? Do you... Can you see me?" he asks. The question is awkward and clunky as it leaves his lips. He holds his breath as he waits for an answer, for any sign of recognition.

"Pavel," Hikaru finally whispers. He looks at him in a sort of timid awe. "You saved me. You saved me from falling."

He draws his hand back as though Hikaru's skin is aflame, his jaw trembling. _No_ , he thinks. _I didn't save you. I couldn't save you at all and it_ kills _me_.

Pavel reaches for the call button; Hikaru obviously has amnesia. He doesn't remember it correctly. Something is wrong. The familiar warmth of Hikaru's hand closes around his wrist and Pavel flinches, his eyes darting up as his mind scrambles to brace for the worst.

"Wait," Hikaru simply says.

 

 _But if the stars have brought you here  
Then here you are_

 

Hikaru dreamt that Pavel was a hero. He dreamt of lots of things, so many things that Pavel can't understand how he fit them all into the few hours he was unconscious. He tells Pavel every detail he can remember: the heavy footfalls of his regulation boots as he boarded the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ , the inky black of space, the suicide mission to a faraway planet with a name he can't recall anymore. He describes the feel of the countless buttons and controls beneath his fingertips—he couldn't believe he actually knew what each one did—and the movement of his hands, nimble and assured when they should have been clumsy and confused. He was a pilot, just as he'd always secretly wanted to be; something that Pavel has never known about him. And there was an entire race on that distant world, faced with swift destruction. He had to go; it was only right.

"I told them about my fencing," he says. Pavel lets out a laugh for the first time. Only Hikaru, in this world or any dream universe, would consider a fencing background on par with combat skills. He squeezes Hikaru's hand.

"So, you went. Of course you did."

And he dropped off the ship with his comrades, just as he dropped off the side of the boat, falling into the unknown; too brave for his own good. They lost a fellow cadet along the way. But not Hikaru—he lived and he fought and he struggled to stay alive, just as he'd done in those murky waters off the California coastline. For a time, survival drifted, just above the surface, close enough to touch. But when he fell again, plummeting off the edge of all that was solid, he knew there would be no second chance for a safe landing.

Pavel shudders as he recalls the exact moment he lost sight of Hikaru in the water, the pitch of his own yells that attracted the attention of another boat. He finds he can't even cry in relief. He can't do anything but listen to Hikaru's outer-space story.

"And then you saved me. You reached right into the air and there was a bright light, and...you saved me."

"I didn't do that," Pavel mutters. He shakes his head miserably, tugging on his own hair. "I did not do anything remotely like that."

Hikaru just blinks at him, as if his stare can prove something; as if the answers to the entire universe are contained within his eyes.

"But I opened my eyes and there you were," he says. And Pavel doesn't know if he's still talking about out in space or right here in this claustrophobic room. He rubs the back of Hikaru's hand, made soft by the salt of the ocean. He finds he can't look at those eyes anymore, not when they're trying to say so many things to him at once.

"You should rest," he says.

 

 _Lock me into something new  
Something different from this  
'Cause I need bliss in the solar system  
In the solar system_

 

It goes on for days. Hikaru keeps waking up with new dreams about space, exciting tales about an exploratory mission that takes them both to new worlds. He's still the pilot and Pavel sits right by his side, plotting navigation courses and delighting everyone with his accent. There are stories with characters now: a clever girl with vast linguistic skills, an animated engineer, a grouchy medic, an enigmatic first officer from another galaxy entirely and a whip-smart, cocky captain—the man Hikaru remembers grabbing hold of him when he fell, with sky blue eyes and a crooked smile.

Pavel listens and nods absently as he cooks eggs on the stove. He thinks Hikaru is remembering the man on the nearby boat who jumped into the water like it was nothing and helped drag him out, then called for help while Pavel just stood there, panicking. As Pavel recalls, he fit the description of this imaginary starship captain.

"Hikaru, I think we should go back to the doctor," he says, dishing the eggs onto their plates. "These dreams are worrisome. They're so...detailed and extensive. What if something happened that they didn't see? What if—"

"I told you, I'm _fine_ ," Hikaru answers. He frowns and piles eggs onto his toast. "They're just dreams. And I think it's kind of cool that I keep having them."

Pavel pours them both juice and sits down heavily beside him. "I just think...there might be some kind of trauma. In your brain. I don't know."

"What, like water still sloshing around in there?" Hikaru smirks and bites into his toast, chewing. "I doubt it. And anyway, I like the dreams. We get to go on all these fun adventures...and you and I are together. Out there in space and in love."

Pavel looks at him and swallows, clutching his glass of juice in his hand. The smile Hikaru wears is the same one he remembers from the boat, just before the world tilted beneath their feet and pulled them apart, almost permanently. So close. It was all so close that he still can't bear it.

"I wish you would just let me worry about you sometimes."

He drinks his juice and looks down at the newspaper. His shoulders slump in relief when Hikaru takes the hint to stop talking.

 

 _Don't think you need to carry me upon your back  
I ask you, what do you believe? _

 

It's three in the morning when Hikaru wakes with a shout, grabbing for Pavel's arm, hip, anything he can find in the dark. Pavel startles awake and twists to look up at him; he's nearly blindsided by the force of Hikaru's ensuing embrace, his own hands curling over his boyfriend's shoulders protectively. He can immediately tell that Hikaru's been dreaming again and it shouldn't surprise him—there's been a new space adventure practically every night.

"Almost lost you," Hikaru mumbles into his shoulder. Pavel strokes his rumpled hair back into place, repeating the motion when it flicks up again.

"Hikaru, you didn't. I'm right here with you. Please calm down."

"There was an explosion on the bridge," he whispers. He lifts his head to look at Pavel, stroking his cheekbones as if to make sure they're still intact. "Right at our station, right under your nose...and I wasn't there. A-and...you were hurt, Pavel. I came and I got you...I carried you out on my back just before everything went up in flames. Just like the way you saved me."

"I _didn't_!" Pavel suddenly yells, gripping Hikaru's shoulders tightly enough to push him back. He looks away from his shocked face. "I didn't save you, Hikaru; stop saying that I did! I can't _take_ it anymore. I'm not a hero, you don't have to carry me anywhere on your back...you don't owe me _anything_."

Pavel gets out of the bed then, kicking the covers away and pulling on a T-shirt. He doesn't mean to move away when Hikaru touches his hip in confusion, but he does. "Pavel, please," Hikaru says, but he raises a hand to silence him.

"No, Hikaru. This is not healthy. You're burying yourself in this fantasy world, this outer space story you've concocted.... It's like you believe it is truer than real life. You're not dealing with this thing that happened to you, this very traumatic thing."

"And you are?" he counters. When Pavel turns to look at him, he's sitting up in bed, shirtless and achingly beautiful in the faint sheen of moonlight from the window. He's all aglow, living and breathing in this body that was almost taken from him, from Pavel. He watches the slow glide of Hikaru's larynx as it bobs against the fragile skin of his throat. He sees the break in his voice before he hears it. "All you ever want to do is talk about it. It's like you think I'm still out there, floating in the sea."

"When you're actually floating in space. Right?"

He turns and leaves the room, grabbing his coat and car keys on the way out. He doesn't know where he's going; just that he has to drive. And right now, he can't wait for the pilot to help him make the journey.

 

 _I'm a lighthouse on the edge of the rocks  
But my warning light is fading_

 

In any universe, a pilot is always stuck with the task of going where his navigator wants to take him. Pavel doesn't hear Hikaru's footsteps as he approaches, his bare feet muffled in the dense sand of the beach, but he's not surprised when he suddenly appears and takes a seat beside him. He doesn't turn his head, just tucks his knees closer to his chest and keeps his eyes focused on the tide as it crashes against the shore rhythmically, slave to the moon's ministrations. He watches the foam slide back and forth over the rocks and shivers as if it's moving over his toes, creeping up to his ankles.

Hikaru isn't looking at him, either; he knows too well by now what it feels like to be on the receiving end of his stare. Pavel imagines he's looking up at the sky—the many, many stars of their universe and innumerable others beyond; the ones they likely know all about in Hikaru's dreamscape. Pavel tries to imagine the possibility of knowing the name of every single pinprick of light; he doesn't like the idea that Hikaru keeps returning to a place where he possesses this infinite information—where Pavel wouldn't belong, too uncomprehending of it.

He considers the towering lighthouse and the way it guides ships along the blank canvas of night; how it shines its light to reassure sailors that somewhere, safe harbor exists. He could never do that for Hikaru. He sucks in a shaky breath, shivering, and Hikaru senses it, taking off his jacket to wrap it around Pavel's shoulders.

"I'm not cold," he whispers and Hikaru shrugs.

"Take it anyway."

"You shouldn't be out here," he says, when he really means, _thank you_. When he definitely means, _I'm terrified_.

"You were right," Hikaru murmurs. He hangs his head low and Pavel turns to look at him for the first time. Hikaru's black hair whips over his forehead with the ocean breeze and he shrugs, obviously searching for words as he forms them, having come here without a readied script. "I was...pushing things down. Escaping. I can't fucking _believe_ that happened to me. To _us_." He purses his lips into a thin line and Pavel lets his gaze rest on them: lips that he's only lightly pecked since Hikaru returned home from the hospital. They've hardly touched in each other in weeks.

"Everything just worked out so perfectly in the other world," he continues, his voice a whisper against the background of the waves. "But it isn't safe there, either. Nothing is ever completely safe." He looks at Pavel sincerely. "You know that, right?"

"No...nothing is," Pavel agrees. He hesitates before leaning against Hikaru's side, the electric warmth of his body nearly enough to bring him to tears. "It is...something we both have to accept, I think. We won't recover if we don't try."

Hikaru nods slightly, not speaking for a while. When he does, he's reduced to a soft, croaky version of himself. "When I saw the light, I thought...that was it. You know? That you couldn't reach me and...I wasn't coming back."

"I couldn't reach you, no," Pavel says. He reaches up to touch Hikaru's jaw, tracing its strong angle down to the curve of his chin. "But the stars brought you back to me."

 

 _I remember looking upward  
To a night like pepper  
A night like pepper_

 

The weight of Hikaru's body against his feels extraordinarily good. Pavel rolls with him in the sand, wishing they could go without clothes for this, but knowing they have to stay dressed to withstand the brisk current of air coming off the Pacific. They rub their bare feet together for some warmth; Pavel can tell he hasn't lost any feeling in his toes when Hikaru rucks up his shirt to suck at his nipple and they curl in response. It's been too long, much too long. He pushes and pulls at Hikaru to get him on his back, so he can look down at him, really pause and _look_.

The sound of Hikaru's voice catches him by surprise, especially when the words he utters are, "I'm so sorry." Pavel swallows and kisses his jaw once, twice—reacquaints himself with the gorgeous thrum of his pulse.

"You should be," he whispers. "I need you here with me. On Earth."

Hikaru laughs quietly, sifting his fingers into Pavel's curls. "You know what I mean. For scaring you. Out there." Pavel squints and shakes his head.

" _I_ should be the one—" he starts, but Hikaru just pulls his head down, kissing him.

"No," he murmurs against his mouth. "No more guilt. No need."

Pavel almost wants to look out at the sea to remind himself that they survived it, or glance up at the night sky, all its freckling of stars ranging in brightness and size like flakes of pepper. Instead, he digs his fingers into the sand beneath them—the yielding but reliable surface of land—and eagerly takes Hikaru's mouth with his own. Their hips meet and rock together, warm and perfect even through layers of clothing, and they luxuriate in the time they have left before sunrise, when the beach will come alive again. Pavel licks at the open space between Hikaru's parted lips and wills himself not to think about the what ifs, maybe nots and could haves. He wants this to be all there is, forever and ever.

They press against each other until they're practically reduced to one being, twisting and writhing in the pale sand. Hikaru thrusts his hips and Pavel feels himself flush from the tips of his ears all the way down the center of his chest to his cock, which twitches and pulses beneath the worn cotton of his pajamas. Hikaru licks at his rose-colored mouth, whispers over and over that he's beautiful, that he's the whole damn universe, inside and out, and Pavel simply clings to the thick, soft folds of his college sweatshirt, tilting his head back as he gives into his release and lets it wash over him. He whispers Hikaru's name to the salty air, moaning when he feels the heavy cock beneath him rut against the dampened fabric. He holds on as Hikaru takes what he needs because what Hikaru needs is _him_ , and he could revel in that knowledge until the end of time.

Hikaru makes a sweet gasping noise when he comes, the way he always does, and Pavel exhales, comforted to know that he hasn't changed, not really; not where it counts. He tucks his face against Hikaru's neck and listens to the ocean, feeling tired but strong, unafraid at last. And when he reaches for Hikaru's hand, it's right there to greet him, his fingers cold but his grip firm and tight. Pavel shuts his eyes and listens to the mingling sounds of their breath and the water, splashing against the nearby rocks. He sinks into the surrounding night, even as it begins to slip away from them.

 

 _But my warning light is fading, warning light is fading  
Can you see me still?_


End file.
